Hell Raised, Heaven Undone
by Birds of North Pole
Summary: Angels come and angel get stuck, like gums on a shoe sole to Winchester brothers. Sam, specifically. When Michael and Lucifer, frail and dangerously mortal, knocked on their door, something will spark, and something would be smothered (not necessarily the same thing). OC will be introduced, later on smut, not very any genre, and pretty AU, set in season 7. Very OOC
1. Under the Influence, anything turn sour

Wait, do you have to type author's notes and disclaimers here?

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or anything else that I have mentioned in this fiction. The plot is mine though.

Author's notes: this is my first time having an account in Fanfiction (or writing it, in fact), I'm generally confused and uh, constructive criticism appreciated, especially grammar corrections because I have no beta and English is not my first language. Please,** no flaming**.

"If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell."(Vergil, Aenoid book VII.312 )

The whole motel room they rented for a entire week with four wrinkled twenty was in a chocking red haze of red; complete with crimson light bulbs, burgundy towels and windows tainted pink glass, it was like a waking bloody nightmare in sat in the middle of a peaceful and almost ghostly quiet town. Room services were called off and Sam sat on his table, brooding over things forgotten at three in the morning. He caught a glimpse of a giant cockroach scurry around in the bathroom, long evolved from scavengers into mouse catching predators.

Hell, the bug looked slick candy apple red.

There was something seriously wrong with the fat owner of this rundown motel; he had a fondness, no, an _obsession_ for red everything.

Sam was lightheaded, and he doesn't quite remember what he was trying drown in alcohol.

A soft sigh came from somewhere to his left, Sam looked over and saw his brother slouched over the back of the chair with a bottle in hand. He was still going to finish the strong, throat burning bottle of cheap whiskey by the look on his face when he looked down and studied his half empty glass. Dean have a high tolerance for the shitty stuff, and Sam recalled the time when Castiel stumbled upon them, drunk from draining an entire liquor store worth of booze and still alive and kicking.

Castiel, right. Leviathans, that had beat the entire purpose of this sorrow drinking crap. Sam mentally hit himself on the back of his head for thinking and wondered if he can pull off another ten.

"Dean," Sam sighed, "stop drinking. You're beyond drunk by this point, what are you trying to do? Trying to find answers in the bottom of a bottle?"

Dean only glared at his brother. His drink slightly tilted and more liquor splashed out to join the ever widening wet spot on the pink carpet. "Shut up. You're drunk too."

"No I'm not." Maybe a little. He had chucked a few cans of beer himself and he wasn't very famous for his tolerance of alcohol.

"Yeah, do shut up." Lucifer agreed in his smooth and confident voice. Was he hallucinating now? Sam looked up from his brother and saw Lucifer lean against the wall, well, short of in a leaning position since he didn't necessarily have his back to the wall.

Sam's blurred gaze traveled from the general shape of Morningstar to focus on his face, instead of seeing Nick, skin peeling and pallid as a corpse, he saw himself with a white blob behind his back that Sam had to squint harder to see identify.

They were wings, Sam realized after his complete studies on the image of Lucifer, many wings. They were tightly folded behind him, glazed over with a light red light. The angel leaned against the feathered appendages slightly, but mostly he looked careful about not to dirty the big and small wings behind him.

"Oh, man." Sam chuckled, "nice makeup, looks like me alright. Though I like the wings the best, thought you only had to put six on."

"It's not makeups, Sam, and no, I can't really control how many wings I have, they are authentic after all." . Lucifer proved his point by shuffling the wings together to make the feathers puff up a little more, it took up more space and he smoothed them down again manually. "See? they're real."

The wings are quite clarified now, one more problem to solve.

Sam then crushed the empty beer can in his hand and savored the noises of groaning metal. He threw the crushed can at Lucifer as hard as he could and aiming for the middle. The can rebounded from the angel with a soft 'thud' and landed the fuzzy carpet.

Lucifer only looked down impassively at the thrown can like it will show all the answers to life. "A can isn't going to kill me, you know."

"Just had to throw something at you." Sam glanced at his heavily drunk brother, who stared at Lucifer now with a bewildered look, but knife still in his hand. "For being a bitch and a half."

Dean slowly rose, staggered, then steadied himself on the same back of the chair he was leaning on a minute ago. He slurred quite obviously when he spoke. "Very rude, good night to you then, Sammy."

Dean leaned into Lucifer in his stagger and Sam, for a moment, thought he was going pass through the angel and crash on the floor. But Morningstar caught Dean with steady hands and let the half conscious man lean on his broad chest. The angel looked so awkward in his stiff pose trying to keep Dean away from his body that Sam almost wanted to laugh until he passed out.

"Uh, Dean. I think you got the wrong person." Lucifer took a sniff at Dean, and shoved him away slowly.

"Sam." Dean only laughed. Apparently he did not notice anything wrong with two little brothers. Intoxicated as he was, he probably saw about a dozen of them. He addressed the angel with a comical manner about something that's very serious and only managed by drunks. "I'm sure there is only one of you here."

"Yes, just one."

"Exactly." Dean grunted, "now would you move? I want to get to my bed."

Lucifer willingly pushed his away and Dean continued to walk aimlessly around in a circle in search of the bed.

"How much did you let him drink?" Lucifer demanded while tensely watching the drunk man in case he felt the need to throw up on someone. Dean did not, fortunately, throw up and only teetered into the wall a few times before he successfully found the direction of bed. But not before he slipped and collided with Sam first. Sam rose from his seat on the table and caught Dean, who after a feeble push at his real little brother this time, bee-lined his way toward his bed and crashed the moment his knee touched the sheets.

"Short bus here? About two bottle of whiskey. Give or take half a bottle, he spilled a lot." Sam admitted, he felt unusually calm and somehow, not at all threatened by the fallen angel. An angel stuck in the Cage can't be on Earth, an angel who was stuck with Michael in the Cage? Sam would pay to see the same being crawl up here in one piece. So a hallucination it must be.

He laughed when Lucifer shook his head disappointedly and sniffled. The angel picked up the spilt bottle of off brand whiskey and swished the remaining bit of liquid that still remained inside the bottle. He caught a whiff of the strong odor and winced.

"I have not drank the drinks invented by you humans, but I am pretty sure this is considered crap no matter whose drink it is." Lucifer took a long swallow from the contents then shuddered visibly. "Horrible."

Sam only laughed harder despite his abdominal muscles telling him that they hurt, tears undoubtedly dwelled his eyes and his face felt red hot.

It wasn't a fact, it was just faith, really. Faith in Michael being strong enough to beat Lucifer. And so far faith took him a long ways, and there are worse moments when it could have betrayed him.

"Great, wonderful, Dean's passed out. This first taste of human whiskey is worse than suffering through Michael for a millennia." Lucifer didn't seem to be in too good of a mood today and his thick brows pulled themselves together. "Now, our neighboring Leviathans are going to start something worse than the apocalypse."

Sam was gaping, he knew, and he wanted to ask 'How could they start the world's end?' Apparently, he wasn't as sober as he thought. "What's up with the supersized feather duster behind you?"

"Good question." Lucifer did _not_ just wince, then make a bitchface at Sam, he must be hallucinating. Lucifer, the Devil, does not wince, or make bitchfaces — that's his specialty. "Not very practical."

"Uh-huh." His head lolled back uncontrollably and Lucifer exhaled with the air of a resigned man.

"I should have known. You're drunk too, Samuel, aren't you?"

"Nope." Sam denied it half-heartedly, the he giggled when Lucifer's face crawled up the ceiling. Or maybe he's just too drunk to know better.

The features got bigger, and Sam felt a hot breeze tickling his face, it smelled of… the cold. Like a winter breeze that force its way up your nostrils, filled with the scent of nothing that you could detect with your nose because by then the icy burn of the cold had numbed all your ability to smell. Lucifer, apparently, smelled like that, a faint trace of something but never linger long enough or strong enough to be pinned down.

"You reek of alcohol too." He could just see the look on the angel's face, but at some point his eyes had closed and he was almost unconscious.

"Too late Mr. Devil." Sam snorted in his sleepy state, "_twinkle, twinkle, little stars, how I wonder_…"

He think he fell asleep after 'what', Lucifer will probably go away in the morning. But there was something tickling his mind…

TBC


	2. Demonic Prophet of the Lord, or Satan

Well, beginning was crappy. Hope this is better. I would be pleasantly surprised if I ever get one comment.

Disclaimer: Anything I mentioned here, except for this plot and my OC Eligos, isn't mine.

"Eligos."

Sam's hangover was very bad, vicious, in fact. He had woken up on the table and a corpse in its rigor mortis stage could probably be less stiff than he felt. There was something vaguely important about the name, and the creature it belonged to. Somehow he cannot think through a fog of irritating pain in his head, which isn't surprising. It isn't infamously known as hangover for no reason at all.

His mouth was dry and his tongue felt like a swelled piece of dead meat in his mouth. Sam lightly bit on it experimentally but received no response whatsoever; tongue tasted like cotton, which was flavorless, or maybe it was because tongues were supposed to taste things in the first place. The texture of the comatose tongue certainly reminded him of cotton though.

"What?" Dean looked at him.

"I think an angel visited my dream last night." Sam slowly got the words out, "but I can't remember which."

"Well, that's new." Dean sighed. He was probably hoping for Castiel to somehow miraculously appear after surviving the leviathans breaking free of his vessel and safely reach out to them. Sam felt bad for his brother, no matter how resilient the angel might seem, that is just something you don't see, that's a miracle of miracles. "You can't remember which huh? What about this Eligos?"

"Uh, I think the angel told me about him." What was it… Sam glanced at the empty whiskey bottle laying on its side. Something about stars, or maybe celestial beings? No, that wasn't it, it was about leviathans, he knew that too deeply to be forgotten by a drink, something important about leviathans. Eligos and leviathans… just what is their connection?

"What does this angel want?" Dean demanded, care for the pain of dehydration obviously thrown out the window for this new development. "Angels don't really know you existed until you have something they want. So what is it this time?"

"I don't know, Dean, it's like… the memory's blurred, probably because I was drunk, but I just can't grasp the idea. It's like… like they were erased." Sam finished the sentence, feeling unusually disturbed. Being visited by angels is one thing, but he felt like it's wrong, very, very wrong. But why?

"Last time I checked, angels can't do memory erasing in a dream." Dean took a swig out of his steaming black coffee. "Now the question is: how did they find us?"

"I have no clue. But this Eligos is our only lead, and, I do have a bad feeling about this name." Sam added. The name was certainly not very sacred sounding, and it did seem like an odd name for an angel. Hopefully the wild hunt for this mysterious, angelic visitor would end soon with something possibly good about the leviathans, because they still have to deal with the immortal suckers.

It's just more wishful thinking.

Eligos is a demon.

"What the hell." Dean exclaimed in annoyance, "your lead is a black eyed little bastard."

Sam sighed and scrolled down the web page, "it's said he rides on a horse made from the remnants of an original horse of Eden, the Steed of Abigor. Cheesy, definitely Satanic cult-like. But look here, it said this 'duke of Hell' knows the future of wars." Sam turned to study Dean's expression.

"Might be crap, might be real." Dean squinted doubtfully at the words, "if it is, then isn't that the equivalent of a demonic prophet of the lord?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so." He huffed, unconvinced. This was definitely not what he had expected. "it's a little ridiculous isn't it?"

"Yep. But also, I just remembered, here, demonic omens." Dean had snatched a newspaper sometime when he went outside to retrieve shotguns to clean. He now pointed at a small article titled 'bug infestation' in a small column of the paper. It was obvious, demons were there; a little too obvious for Sam's likings, the demons have been quiet so far since Castiel had double-crossed Crowley and started to smite demons with his newfound powers of Purgatory, and suddenly there came a omen? It was a sore thumb in the crowd of demonic nothingness. Things can't be good, and so far…

"So far our best bet lay here." Dean continued, "look, it's only a half hours' worth of driving, if there is a Eligos there, then good, if not, we exorcise demons, it's a win-win."

"Alright." Sam wondered about this demonic entity, just why is it that he was so crucial to this? Important enough to be mentioned by an angel?

* * *

If there was something significant about Eligos, he didn't know it himself. Right now he sat in his house, studying himself in the bathroom mirror. Black jeans and a simple faded white t-shirt was good enough for him, he wasn't very picky in colors or designs. The new hair cut looked nice, it gone with the gothic theme and gave him a royal look when he flash his demon eyes.

He ruffled the pale hair another time on this person and decided to call it a home after a five year test drive—it's his immortal life, he can do what he want with it. Because after thirteen switches — such lucky number — from bouncers to little kids, he still wasn't satisfied. He didn't like the corpse, it always felt too ventilated with a fourth hole on his chest. He had, in an accident, possessed an infant, and for a month he did nothing but shit diapers and scare mommy. It was not something he liked, and he would not possess another baby if his life depended on it.

Okay, maybe not that determined to not possess human toddlers, but still, human idioms.

The point is, he's exhausted. Demons like him get tired from all that body jumping, and something can't really be absolutely perfect, so after a while, he settled for the next best thing; if you can't find perfection, then you just have to make it. That was a while ago, and now now he was perfectly content in this body.

He had to give it to the humans though, their obliviousness and apathy to their younger generations. Five years and nobody in the neighborhood ever noticed anything wrong when the shy kid on the block suddenly had a whole new outlook in life. Snap, just in one day, just like that. They probably didn't even have a clue what changes ever occurred; to them, this boy was always mischievous, sweet with an exotic aura surrounding him. The girls blushed at his glance, boys hanging out and admired him. They even had a little fan community dedicated to him, oh, how Eligos loved attention. Next thing you know, there's a statue erected for him and people worshipping him in a shrine. That's possible, if he really put his heart to it. But then there are hunters to deal with, and Eligos isn't the biggest fan of fight-to-the-death style battles. He wasn't strong, and he's definitely vulnerable to demon traps.

Ah, well, thinking about that make him shudder in horror.

He liked up here, really, and his short attention span was responsible for all of it. Even if torture is fun, you can't be obsessed with it, you gotta give it a break sometimes and do something else. Eligos watched _Opera_ and documentary on the ancient art of torture. He savored the great HD screens and smoothly running Internet of Up Here. Demons (or demon) are social creatures (a total and absolute lie, though he did enjoy texting and chatting online) after all. He disliked downstairs because hell was _always_ last to get any conveniences human technology offered—namely cable TV—and it always froze whenever he tried to fast forward from a commercial. Hell's commercials were bad, hideous to be exact.

And you wonder why demons are foul tempered, sick creatures looking for blood.

The doorbell rang, and he looked away from the mirror to answer the door. He didn't really teleport a lot, he was too lazy to do so. Eligos walked through the wooden floored hallway with his slippery, striped socks, he should put shoes on, then he didn't really want to. It would become the newest fashion trend if he wear it, and beside attention, he also loved influence and power. Like any good (or wicked) demon would do.

His mind whispered suspiciously that something was amiss. Then again, hysteria was part of his daily life so he ignored the whispering voice.

Come to think of it, he might have missed that the expensive living room carpet was wrinkled and he was always, bordering obsessively, careful in taking care of his room décor. But then it all contributes to his short attention span.

TBC


	3. Demon, still a prophet

Author's Note: Lucky me, three days into my bewildered adventure into and there is someone to help me. I post way too fast, and I might slow down after the fourth chapter. Life still goes on without my consent. [sigh] I still have school to go. Anyways, enjoy, because it looked better on Word Document than on the wide screens of Fanfiction.

Thanks to Donut Yang, she is a very great writer and friend.

Also, this chapter may contain grotesque death(s), depends on my mood at the time of writing that part, so be warned. If you have a weak stomach, then please don't continue, I'm sure a computer/PC full of puke is not very pretty.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything mentioned in this story, except for plot, OC, and the time it took for me to type this.

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Dean looked at the map, then at the white painted house again. Vibrant flowers bloomed graced the yard with its presence and the grass was greener than any other neighbor's lawns. The door was shielded away from view by a lush, lavender wisteria tree while stones sat under the plant. It gave the more European yard a decorative dash of oriental feeling.

"Work of the Devil," a man murmured while coming up to them, "that kid was never home, and he never took care of his garden. Yet look at that, he's flowers are better than the ones the master gardener's did. I swore flowers don't grow on their own, but now I'm not very sure."

"Yeah." Dean humored the man with underlying sarcasm in his answer, "definitely the Devil."

Sam scowled at his immature brother and turned to ask the man, "sir, have you seen any unusual activities around this area?"

"Are you cops?"

"Yes, actually." Dean lied smoothly.

"Go away already." The man mumbled again, "that old woman know nothing but to call the police and report demons. She's been warned twice already, and a good thing this is a small town and the sheriff is a good man. They should do something about her though, always trying to exorcize people."

"Excuse me?" Sam requested, "demons? exorcising?"

"Yeah. She's always bothering the kid living here, Eli, though he did nothing wrong. Good kid, you don't get many like him nowadays, funny, friendly, _humble_. The kids these days have their head up their ass, little arrogant bastards, no offense though, officers, you looked young."

"None taken." Dean offered him a smile.

"Sir, you said she's always trying to exorcise the kid living here, so what does she do, exactly?"

The man looked at him, a suspicious look rose on his face, "what?"

"We are just try to clear this up and convince this woman so she won't call again."

"Right. Well, you see her drawing circles and stars with a bowl, and then she would put a bowl in the middle and mutter something gibberish. then she's always bothering this kid, yelling about Boy King or something like ruby, not quite the usual chant." The man answered, "oh, by the way, I'm Bill."

"Sam." Dean gave his brother an ridiculous look and Sam added, "Smith."

"And you?" Bill's gaze moved from Sam to Dean.

"That's Dean." Sam interrupted before Dean could say anything different. "Also smith."

"Thought you boys are fags." Bill mumbled again.

Dean chocked on his own saliva out of embarrassment and he coughed violently while Sam tried to explain their relationship with Bill. this was getting old, after so many years together on the road people always, on first glance, thought they were gay. Dean right now did not appreciate the fact that his face was a little on the feminine side of things.

"Uh...no, we are brothers."

Bill looked at them sheepishly then he grinned, face turning a curious shade of bright red, "sorry, shouldn't have said that about you officers."

"Don't worry, we are used to it." Dean smiled uncomfortably again, there is a limit to things after all, and even if Bill was just a typical middle aged and balding man who was pretty innocent Dean still wanted to punch him for saying that. "Now, would you let us have a moment in private?"

"Yeah, sure." Bill walked off, "just knock if you boys need anything else, I live right there."

Dean turned toward Sam and he whispered, "this is the place, definitely. Ruby? Boy King? And Eli? Sam, she knows something."

"Eli, short for Eligos." Sam agreed. "I think we're at the right place, but isn't it a little too easy?"

"Might be a trap." Dean shrugged, "but what choices do we have?"

Sam heard glass shatter and a almost inhuman screech came from the silent house and his head snapped toward the house, Dean was already running up the steps toward the billowing wisteria and the white polished door of the house. Without a choice now Sam followed his brother and raced up the driveway, he broke through the locked door with one powerful kick and entered. They didn't have to search far because the riot came from the living room directly set after a small hallway that connected to the door.

A young man sat twisted on the floor in a strange, almost yoga like position, he struggled against a seemingly invisible attacker—devil's trap does that to a demon; an ancient woman calmly stood over him, chanting the first lines of Latin Sam memorized: a spell to exorcise demons. The boy, presumably Eligos, lashed out at the woman, hissing in anger and pain but unable to reach his captor. Sam saw that in his frenzy the demon had knocked over glass vases, mirrors had cracked under his desperate telekinesis powers and furniture were thrown over or laid on its side. Another whirlwind was whipped up as the wrinkly female started another sentence, Eligos yelled in frustration and his eyes flashed demonic but a blue reflection glazed over the normal, eerie black orbs that was a demon's signature. It was almost enchanting, and for a moment Sam was snarled in its web that whispered of endless mysteries. What had snapped him out of the trance like state was a swarm of locusts slamming angrily against an invisible barrier inside the hallway which they entered from.

The insects came out of no where and suddenly their sounds filled the air with vibrations that reached the bones; their buzz was ear splitting and unnaturally synchronized, like a the beating of a heart, high, low, high again, then low. A black cloud of living things that was unstoppable and immortal, they struggled harder and Sam could swear that he saw something crack under their constant assault. The crowd grew and swelled, the woman oblivious to the turmoil that was the blood seeking locusts. She was almost finished with the steady chant, and Sam remembered to save the demon. Pretty ironic, because usually humans are the ones that needed saving from demons, and not the other way around.

Apparently, Sam did not have to.

Eligos had inhaled as much air as his lungs could apparently hold, then roared. It was a terrible sound that reached the octave of the angels' overwhelming voice, but in the exact different direction in the scales of Holy to Unholy. Sam had heard an angel a few times, and it was just... loud, unexplainably strange, but without much emotions, it was apathetic, just like the angels themselves. With Eligos, the sound was heart breaking, fear arousing, yet at the same time, it riled forgotten anger from the dark depth of the mind. It wasn't just painful to hear, it made Sam wanted to kill himself from the awful feelings they gave him. All three of them covered their ears and cowered in pain as the demon continued his shriek.

"LET ME GO!"

Missions all but forgotten for the migraines that made themselves known, they just laid there, trying to establish a sense of directions and thoughts in general. The world had became silent after the piercing, heinous voice of the demon, and Sam just hoped the deafness wasn't permanent.

The swarm of locusts had broken free of their barrier somehow, and they had went for the old woman; the insects covered her thoroughly from head to toe, and she flailed and rolled around the floor in pain. Her screams were mute to Sam, but the satisfied, teeth chattering hum of the locusts was felt even through the blanket of silence now encased his world. The woman squirmed and twisted, crushing countless locusts under her, bug intestines was strewn all over the polished surface of wood in a thick, mustard colored coating, littered with glitters of broken transparent wings. More insects came to replace their deceased members to gnaw on her flesh, the swarm proceeded to fill the room with their ranks and still more rushed in like flood water. Dean watched, horrified at the proximity of the black and yellow covered body. The place was a living storm of locusts as they swirled around Eligos, the calm eye of the storm.

Eligos watched with a satisfied look on his face. The waters of dead corpses was now decorated with unappetizing streaks of red human blood, a hand shot out from under the layers of bugs, and a particularly strong wave of nausea hit Sam head on; The hand had only thin streaks skin flapping on it, the muscles and sinew was consumed by thousand of small pincers.

When the body stopped moving and the bugs continued to devour her he threw back his head and laughed; the faint laughter sound of wind chimes in a soft breeze, sharp, clear and pleasant—Sam's hearing was recovering. It was wrong beyond mention and Sam shuddered as more adrenaline spiked his blood. He wanted to run, but his legs seemed to be unable to carry him, he collapsed after a attempt to get up, and he just watched the demon instead.

Then it all stopped, the buzzing, the crunch of pincers tearing flesh apart, beating to a invisible beat. It was just, quiet. A deathly silence ensued in the room. Even more than the numbness of the temporary handicap could cover up. His brother groaned in pain and disgust, but Sam barely caught it, he was focused on Eligos, those ink-green eyes bore amusement seemed to probe the depth of his heart. Then it seemed to be over. Nothing was there again, and Sam found himself standing up, bewildered and watched by Eligos.

"What..." Sam's throat felt dry and constricting. His head was pounding and he stumbled around, the demon laughed again, it was just like in the strange, dream like scene, something so pure it didn't belong to a creature of that blood. But there was no body, no locusts, it was just him, Dean, and Eligos in a demon trap, though the woman was not present, but Sam had a feeling she wasn't dead.

"Rise and shine sweet Winchesters." Eligos's sweet, seemingly sincere smile faded into an angry snarl, "you let her escape with that degree of shitty witchcraft?"

* * *

"News flash. Did you know that I was the first demon on the moon?" Eligos bragged proudly as he cross-legged sat on the matt, painted with a demon trap on the back.

"Ugh." Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance, "I don't even know demons did that. And I'm not sure I want to."

"Too late, hunter." Eligos cackled in amusement, "I was in Metallica once, you know?"

"_No_ you were _not_." Now Dean was out right horrified, "you definitely did _not_ play in Metallica."

"Aww, Dean, scary huh?" Eligos flashed his human host's dark emerald green eyes. "I just love messing with you."

"So you were not in Metallica?"

"No, I was."

"You kidding me."

"I haven't killed people in about fifty human years, anything is possible."

"You just did." Dean pointed out the obvious.

"That was a spell, it puts you into a trance to allow an escape. Even if I did kill her, it was just self-defense and at best manslaughter, not murder." Eligos offered his counter argument. "I know my human law. And I also know my witchcraft."

"That was a witch?" Sam asked, now sat opposite of the demon and nursed a glass of cold beer, "you mean, you didn't kill her?"

"Hell no." Eligos rolled his eyes and rolled up his sleeve on his forearm, revealing a painful looking burn mark, still angry red in coloring, "this, saved my ass though. You don't see many witches her age anymore, and there's a reason why she lived that long, back-stabbing bitch."

"How did she know about Ruby? Or me?"

"That was common news, I'm afraid, at the time of the apocalypse and before, and there are plenty of demons who will chat endlessly to their 'human servants'." Eligos then snorted. "You two are sadists. Do you know how small this stupid drawing is? this is made for trapping demonic hamsters, not possessed humans. My butt hurts from sitting in it. You know that the granny next door is going to check on me soon don't you? Because I had a physical therapy session with her."

"You are possessing a seventeen year old for god's sakes, why are you- oh, you sicko." Dean's voice went up an octave, "don't tell me."

"What?" Sam was lost, or maybe it was because of the headache still lingering in his head, but he could not think straight, and he would pay anything to take that 'what' back.

The demon sighed, "I did fuck our neighboring granny, I mean, she was a lonely widow, and she wanted someone so I told her she was hot and- Ow!" he glowered at Dean, who had delivered a backhand slap to his cheek. "Barbaric humans."

"We'll release you, okay? Just, stop, I don't want to know." Dean shook his hand and peeled the corner of the carpet up, "if I hear that one more time, I am going to claw my ears off, and shove this demon killing knife up where the sun don't shine."

"No you wouldn't." Eligos grinned, then tried to look innocent and doing a very good job of it, "please don't hurt me."

Dean sighed, and upon seeing the marks, scraped off a small segment of the chalk lines. Eligos teleported the moment he made sure he was free, leaving the brothers in the ransacked looking house. with a broken door, and many more broken objects that Sam can't count.

"Well, fuck." Dean cussed into the empty air where the demon had been, "you ungrateful bitch."

TBC

* * *

More Author's Note: I spent three chapters on intro. and I would probably spend the next two doing that also. The characters are all a little OOC because I'm still trying to get a hang of this. Lucifer is going to be here next chapter or so, Michael would show up waaay later into the story. If I ever get around to finish it.

Reviews please, anyone?


	4. Lucifer, don't poke at your bones

Author's Notes: Thank you for all the follows and favorite. I'm glad at least someone like this. Also, three things about OC and few more about this AU I'm... just... squealing when I get a new follow.

1) Eligos does not have any other abnormal abilities other than the ones found on a common demon.

2) The burn mark is similar to the one Meg had when she possessed Sam to repel exorcism.

3) Eligos had messed with witchcraft and probably was called a warlock because of the male stats. Just guessing.

4) Castiel did not break the wall Death had set in for Sam

5) I did not really fancy Lucifer as Nick or as Sam's doppelganger in this story, so since this is AU, I'm gonna create a new image for him, probably mixing the two

Nuff said.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything mentioned in the story except for the OC and plot.

**Warning, this chapter is full of gory details, (but if you made it this far into my progressively disturbing story you can probably take this. Then again, you might not be able to. Just saying. Read on kiddos.)**

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Dean slammed the door of the Impala close angrily. Over the last half an hour in the car he had fumed about the demon and the more he talked about it, the angrier he got. Sam quietly sat there, listening to him complain like a good brother. Sometimes he really appreciated that, somebody just listening. He stopped after taking a few more steps when he didn't hear the passenger door open or close. Walking over to the car, he rapped his knuckles gently on the hood, "hey, Sam."

"What?" Sam snapped awake, looking around with sleepy eyes, "I think I slept through the trip, are we there yet?"

Well, that explained a lot.

"Y-" Dean didn't know whether to shout at his oblivious brother or laugh hysterically. But really, it's not Sam's fault, he was just being a bitch, like he usually was.

"Huh? Did I miss anything important?" Sam looked up at him still squinting and part of his hair was still wild from static.

"Nothing." He might have slightly hissed in his words.

Sam opened the door then got out; he stretched to his full height with a deep, infectious yawn and Dean was again towered by his younger brother. Dean walked up to the motel room without waiting for Sam and opened the door. He ignored the owner when he cheerily waved to Dean from the window of the office before he threw the door shut in Sam's face.

When he flipped the light switch on in the room, something hummed, then the sound died, leaving Dean in the dark, silent room. Sam opened the door again with a scowl, and Dean shut him up before he could say anything. The door had creaked and the floor board nearest to the door groaned when Dean stepped on it, their unwelcomed visitor, whoever it might be, heard them alright, but it doesn't hurt to take precautions.

Proof for the paranoia? Dean was pretty sure that when he left there wasn't brown handprints on the wall that looked disturbingly, and possibly is, blood.

"Hiya Winchesters." Someone suddenly said in the dark, and a soft ruffling of what sounded like feathers followed, "never thought I would meet you here."

Dean felt his heart drop, they know that voice alright, and that is the last damn thing they needed. he heard Sam gasp behind him, brotherly bickering long forgotten. "Who are you?"

"Me." The man chuckled, "surprise."

The light, picking the best possible moment, flickered on, the red making the room more hard to look at and Dean immediately wished that it was dark again. There were glass shards everywhere, by the sheer amount of the sharp pieces Dean could determine how Lucifer got in the room. An idiot could do that, provided that they see the broken window and connect the dots like a preschooler.

Lucifer himself was bloody, and that was something you don't see every day. There were deep, gashing cuts on his cheek, some on his forehead, so deep Dean could see the muscles underneath; they had stopped bleeding a while ago, but the ones on his hand did not.

Lucifer held his hands gingerly in front of him, palms up and revealing the shredded skin, meat, and at parts, gleaming white bone underneath. The sparkle in the light showed that there were still broken glass lodged in them. The closer Dean got — treading the place like a friggin minefield — the more he saw, underneath all that blood and wounds, Lucifer didn't exactly look like Nick, or Sam. He looked like a mix of the two hosts; Sam's brown, wavy hair and high nose, Nick's eyes, flatter forehead and heavy lidded eyes —his brother's glittering hazel in color. For more than times he would like to count, he was bewildered, in a not very good way.

"Lucifer?" Sam croaked, "how?"

Lucifer smiled, and held his hands out, in a very twisted parody, like a little child waiting for a treat, "they hurt."

"What?" Dean was taken aback by the Devil's honesty and straightforwardness, he pointed at the bloody mess warily, "your hands?"

"Yeah." Lucifer nodded vigorously, "they won't heal, no matter what I do."

It was like talking to a little kid, Dean then realized, whatever Lucifer was playing at, he wasn't healing like he should. He stared at the angel's hands, his stomach upset by the grotesque condition they were in. Lucifer took the hands back and examined them himself with wide eyes, blood trickled down the side of his arm and he instantly giggled, "tickles."

That, was it. That did the deal of this... sudden emo angel crap. Dean rushed into the bathroom and continued to hurl into the bowl of the toilet until he was dry heaving on the floor. He faintly heard Sam, trying to interrogate the angel with a hysterical voice, but Lucifer only smiled and laughed at his questions, like he didn't realize the pain. But then occasionally, the constant chuckling turned into a sad, wet hiccup like he was sobbing.

Maybe he was. Dean quickly smothered that option down; no matter what happened to Castiel, even losing faith in something he believed in for millenniums he didn't cry. Angels simply did not cry, so there's no reason that Lucifer would start.

Dean found himself staring blankly at the floor, where a tiny bug made its long hike across the icy tiles of red. He had no heart to crush the little creature. Dean pushed himself up with effort and found the biting hangover there again. Someone was already looking at him with a desperate look on his face, and he didn't bother to look up.

"The hands were, oh, hell, that was not something I want to remember." Dean flushed toilet and closed his eyes to clean that picture from his mind.

"He's not telling me anything." Sam looked at him with desperation written in his eyes, "all he said when I asked him how did he get out was, 'I woke up on a island in the Pacific Ocean and flew here."

"Well, that's... interesting." Dean washed his hands in the sink and sprayed cold water over his face to calm down. "What was he doing there?"

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it's not a vacation." Sam's scowl was obvious in his voice.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure not." He replied, he faced Sam and saw, over his shoulder, someone moving. "Hey, Sam, turn around."

Sam whipped around and upon something, rushed out of the bathroom.

"Eligos?"

"Shit." Dean followed, they caught the demon by the arms without much resistance. Eligos smirked when Ruby's knife was pressed up against his throat. "Ouch, man, watch it."

"Eligos, you little bastard." Dean hissed at him, "you dare to turn up at a hunter's doorsteps huh?"

"I'm sure you're pissed, would you like me taking Lucifer off your hands? I may fear that he is a little... childish?" Eligos's smile twitched when the blade drew a thin line of blood with a hiss. "I'm just asking. Politely."

"What happened to him?" Sam demanded urgently, "if you know where he was, then you know what happened."

"I'm not sure." The smile faded from his lips, and he jerked his head toward Lucifer. "What happened to Big Daddy there. I ensure you nobody but me know about this new development. "

"You're ugly." Lucifer said to Eligos with the childish enthusiasm he recently gained, then the angel applauded himself with squelchy wet sounds and blood spraying everywhere. He stopped and looked at his abused hands. "Owie."

Dean started to retch violently again, but the heavy slamming of the bathroom door indicated that Sam got there first. The demon was not obviously affected, but he did look a little green in the face. Eligos cleared his throat even though demons don't actually have to clear phlegm from their respiratory systems; the same power that supported the host cleaned that for them, most of the time. "So."

"So?"

"Let's help Lucifer clean up," Eligos gave Dean an uncomfortable smile, "it's getting very disgusting here."

"Definitely." Dean glanced at the angel again between heavy breathes and making sounds that sounded like a cat hacking up a fur ball, Lucifer was studying his hands while poking at the alabaster bones that was revealed with a particularly deep wound with the other hand's index and middle finger.

"Why doesn't that hurt?" Lucifer asked while he repeated the motion over and over again.

"Ugh."

TBC

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P.S. Sorry, got carried away. Imaginations. Supernatural programs would have been banned and sued if something like this actually happened on one of the episodes, then again, that's what fanfictions are for.

Mysterious plot is actually revealed! What happened to Luci? We'll see a little of it on the next chapter.


	5. Hamster allergens that cause mutation

Disclaimer: not mine, there.

Ah, right, warnings of cannibalism(ish), suggested granny/under aged, just suggesting.

Authors Notes: I really have time on my hands, so I am going to type and post as often as I can.

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Mental purging is actually very disgusting, despite the fact that it is only incoherent thoughts flowing in one's mind that loosely tied around one theme; when you have two voices in your head, that became a very hazy fog of confusion. Especially in the case of possessed humans, take the bullied and shy Ian, Eligos's human suit original owner, for example. But first of all, just who name their kid Ian these days? Eligos could understand half of why Ian was bullied, it does not mean that he have sympathy — demons are demons and no matter how humane they seem, there's a very clear bottom line to it, helping hunters teetered on that line, pitying your host crossed it — or care of what the young boy had to say. Right now Eligos had to fight the urge of picking on the thin scab that the demon killing knife made, Ian's urges, and try not to get his speech slurred by the avalanche like thoughts the stupid human supplied his head with. When he touched Lucifer he had to restrain a flinch, and when he started to clean the bone deep wounds and pulling out glass shards that embedded themselves deep into the flesh he practically had to smother Ian mentally to get him to shut up, or stop his diarrhea of the mind.

"Owwie." Lucifer whined when he stuck tweezers into the cut on his cheek and retrieved another piece of tiny, bloody glass. Dean drew in a breath and held it like he was the one feeling the pain. With the strange and sometimes working human empathy Eligos couldn't tell, a druidic warlock like he was never had to bother with any of that; they hex and they curse, they didn't even need to look at the victim at all. It's strange, how there are families of hunters, and then there are family covens, too bad kids these days don't bother with them, it was a good time, everyone looked after each other in a coven related by blood. No worries of backstabbing, at least, you hoped so.

Eligos didn't care, he was one of the few who betrayed their mother and sisters to the crazy zealous villagers for a few coins. He was the Judas in the ranks of loving disciplines, and he definitely did not sympathize with them. Eligos was ruthless, and hunters in his days stepped out of his way or turn a blind eye on him. Under the public eyes, fueled on by the church, the righteous hunters are as guilty as the next wicked witch may be.

It was in his youth, and now time might have mellowed him down quite a bit. Hell, ironically, had made him more gentle in his approach against anything, including the modern hunters who have improved weaponry. Demons had a advantage against the mortal hunters in his days, now hey were just another monster no better than the next vengeful soul. But he wasn't one to wallow in self-pity, he is what he made himself to be, and if he didn't like it, then he'll just have to change it himself.

Eligos placed the threaded needle under a candle fire they had going, it was a black candle, and the now hot needle stood in contrast with the grey wax. He pressed the freshly cleaned wound together and pushed the needle through it as quick as he could manage, Lucifer didn't say anything; he pulled the sanitized thread taught on the first stitch, then started the second stitch.

"Alright, one down, thirty-two more to go. After that we have to bandage and sew your hands up too, they are a pretty shredded mess." Eligos just couldn't help it, he had to talk, though he wasn't a very big talker when he was alive, he had to say that he is now, probably to make up for the thing that he didn't get to say when he was the almighty warlock. Ian had the smooth, velvety voice of an angel —again, human idioms, since he'll probably go deaf at the real voice of an actual angel — and for a while, he had been in the choir sopranos. He quit because the girls laughed at him whenever he started to sing despite the fact that he was a really good singer. Eligos laughed with the girls, and Ian had tried to mentally strangle him for a few times. Humans and their embarrassments.

"I know." Lucifer's face seemed to brighten up and Eligos and to scold the once great fallen angel not to smile; he mumbled pretty low under his voice, "I sliced them with knives."

"You what?" Sam chocked on his words, "Lucifer, you're telling me you cut your hand yourself?"

"Hey, Lucifer here's pretty proud of his handiwork, don't encourage him because next time it might not be hands he's doodling away on with that knife of his." Eligos warned Sam.

"Isn't it better if he just commit suicide?" Dean glowered at the angel, "it would save us a lot of trouble."

"Whad id huihide?" Lucifer asked with his cheeks squeezed together by the demon to sew the gaping wound. "id it kasky?"

"No, suicide is not tasty, it's not even food." Eligos shot back, "stop talking, Lucifer. And Dean? Would you really kill him like this? He doesn't have any powers to speak of, and see how fucked up he is? He's not the Lucifer you know, somehow someone pulled him out of the cage, but the spell, or whatever they used, wasn't complete and not very powerful. Parts of him was left in the cage, and the one you see right now is just a empty shell of himself. In fact, it's like the situation we had with Sam, except on a more messed up level."

Ian vomited more trashy thoughts into his head at the white little lie, and he failed to cover the victorious smirk on his face. Sam drew a breath in at the reminder of the cage, and Dean shifted quickly, promising violence with the sound of metal unsheathed.

"Do-" Dean was stopped by Sam with a stern look and a more physical hand pressing against his chest. Turning toward Eligos, Sam asked, "what are the chances that we can send Lucifer back?"

"Nothing really." Eligos admitted honestly, "because I get to keep him as leverage and Dean, I do know some _really_ nasty spells, so don't try to kill me with your knife, you'll just get hexed."

"You little-" Dean snarled angrily.

"Mm-hmm." Eligos nodded before Dean could continue. "I'm helping you, for free, you better be grateful before I take Lucifer away and get all the things I need from him without you."

"Do I get candy if I tell you?" The angel almost bounced on the bed. Eligos wanted to laugh at Ruby, is this the creature she brought back with her death? He was weak, pathetic, and, most of all, worthless. Yes, he was lying to Dean, since the hunter didn't know better, and that, is the meaning of leverage, after all. Eligos didn't know what happened to the angel, and he didn't fancy knowing, because whatever can turn an angel as powerful as Lucifer was into a mortal was not someone he wanted to shake hands with, or meet at all. Dean almost hissed behind him, but he kept applying stitches on the wound, twelve down, twenty one more to go. Ian seemed to fade away as the most horrible moments were past, and Lucifer's wound stopped bleeding again.

"Maybe." Eligos grinned wickedly.

* * *

"What does the angel want with you?"

Eligos had treated the angel in relative silence after Dean went in and out of the room; worried about Sam's safety with two untrustworthy temporary allies, or at least, neutralized threats, yet disgusted at the demon's presence and leaving once again. After a while Dean just leaned on the doorframe, and he spoke very suddenly. Lucifer yelped in surprise and jumped up on the bloodied bed, Sam flinched when Lucifer did that, and Dean's hand moved unconsciously down to the belt where he kept the knife in an entertaining chain reaction. Eligos watched with interest at the scene. Before mulling over the sentence Dean had said.

"I have no idea, really." He answered.

"Well, can you see the future?"

Eligos groaned, "tell me you haven't been surfing on the internet for that crap. You probably have, haven't you? Well, I can try and divine the future, but no guarantees for anything. I have no talents on that whatsoever, hunters."

"Just our luck." Dean muttered grudgingly.

"So you are not a prophet." Sam had felt the need to state the obvious.

"No, I'm a warlock." Eligos glared at Sam for sounding very upset. What did he expect with that poor luck of his? Lucifer tried to chew on his bandages either in a attempt to get them off his hands or try to determine them to be edible after all. He slapped the angel's hand away from his mouth not too gently and Lucifer pouted in disappointment at the lack of something in his mouth to gnaw on, he began to intently study his gauze wrapped hands again.

"You mean you're like Voldemort?" Dean raised a brow in question.

"I think he'll be wetting his pants when he see my wrath." Eligos's grin was feral. "But pretty much the same concept."

"And why shouldn't I kill you right here and now?"

"'cause you can't, and so you won't."

"And what makes you so hard to kill when you are just a black eyed demon at best?" Dean smirked too, it was wicked in his own way.

"Let's see, oh, right, witchcraft." Eligos tapped a finger against his small chin in sarcasm, then he clicked the fingers in front of Dean, who tried to stab him. He waited until the last moment when the knife almost scraped his thin shirt to teleport over to the other side of the room to mock the hunters. "And, black eyes or not, I'm faster than you would like to go up against."

Sam had somehow snuck up behind him and twisted his arms behind his back and held him here. Dean had closed in the distance between them and pressed the knife, again, on his throat, "oh yeah?"

"I never said I wasn't vain." Eligos whispered under his breath.

"What does this do?" Lucifer had obtained a sawed off shotgun from the duffel bag nearest to him, Dean's probably, and pointed it at the three of them, clustered together. His fingers, clumsy from all the gauze around it, are wrapped around the trigger and the other ones holding the gun and slipping every few seconds. "It looks like a stick."

"Uh, Lucifer." Dean raised his hands with a tense smile on his face, "you don't want to touch that."

"Abracadabra." Lucifer frowned when nothing happened. He tried it again, now pointing at the demon, Eligos swallowed nervously, then he moved the aim onto Dean, and then Sam. "It's not working."

"This, is a very homicidal kid before you." Eligos whispered to Sam.

"Lucifer." Sam went for a soft, coaxing voice, "if you give that, uh, stick to Dean, we'll get you candy?"

The Morningstar cocked his head to the side like a confused bird; then after a moment of silence and intense frowning in consideration, he nodded. Sam's shoulders slumped with relief and he exhaled out his mouth. The hot breath tickled the back of Eligos's neck and he wanted to scratch at it, but he restrained himself from such unprofessional moves. Sam's hands and forearms relaxed in the moment and then tensed up once again when Lucifer thrust the gun out, still pointing at them. Dean jumped back and glowered at Sam for his idea; then he carefully pushed the head of the gun away from himself and took it from Lucifer.

They sighed in relief as a oblivious but dangerous threat was neutralized. Then Sam gave a surprised shout when Eligos disappeared from his grip and reappearing behind the angel. Grabbing the shoulder of Lucifer he gave them a air kiss, then he vanished before Dean could empty the shotgun at him.

"Aw, goddamn it!" Dean threw the gun to the ground. "not again."

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Sam was certain he was dreaming. He was staring at a oddly shaped, flat pink blob that just froze there, when he looked around, he only saw more, same tone of pink, but somehow the blob was not camouflaged by the background, it was standing out, in an incomprehensible way. Yep, definitely dreaming. He heard a distant voice, one smooth, and scratching the edge of his mind.

"Hey, rise and shine, hunters."

Was that... Sam snapped awake, gun under his pillow was gone, and the demon stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed in a show of confidence. Sam heard a loud bang and a pained groan from Dean, but Eligos stood between them with a smug look on his face.

"How did you..." Dean sounded a little dazed, it probably had something to do with the banging. "Get past the devil's trap?"

"I didn't." Eligos jerked his thumb at a white cocoon on the ground, a soft scratching could be heard from it. Sam, after a little more staring, discover it to be slightly quivering. The cocoon was actually made of disturbed wing feathers tipped with a light blond, now something hummed in it. Sam knew that hopelessly tone deaf but cheerful voice — it was Lucifer, the newly mentally disabled one.

Dean moaned in pain or annoyance, maybe a mix of both, "Lucifer?"

"What happened to him?" Sam sat up straighter in his bed and leaned a little more forward to see the cocoon. "Why does he have a cocoon?

"It's not a cocoon. They're wings." Eligos looked exasperated. "That kinda happened after I fed him a demon. Unintentionally."

"Unintentionally?" Sam stared the demon in the eyes and repeated himself to express his disbelief at the recent turn of events, "_unintentionally_?"

"Like flesh and blood fed or black smoke fed?" Dean got out of bed, and Sam saw him messaging the top of his head. Hit the headboard on his way up then. "You know what? I'm not sure I even want to know that, and what the hell do you mean 'unintentionally'? Shouldn't we be trying to kill you right now?"

"You should be, if you didn't have a hulked out Lucifer with us." Eligos smiled, this time the smile wasn't one of his cocky grins that just screamed everything was under his control. It was just blank, more like when something goes wrong and he have no idea what he is supposed to do kind of smile, shallow, fake, and really lacking any deeper meaning. Sam frowned in response, facial expressions are very useful in communicating while you talk about something else totally irrelevant, or the other way around.

"Hulked out? Wait, just what did you feed him?" Dean was demanding nervously now. Lucifer only kept on scratching away at the devil's trap just against the door and humming his merry, toneless song in what sounded like gibberish.

"Maybe a possessed neighbor." Eligos shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world, and Sam had to be reminded that demons does not have a 'healthy' to 'unhealthy' mental scale. If there was though, Eligos definitely tipped the scale to 'you have a new life now and this is what you do with it?' in a very off into the deep end kind of way. "I short of uh, turned him into what Satan there considered 'edible' and he just, gulp it down.

"So now Lucifer have wings?" Dean glanced at Lucifer, "that's it?"

"Yep."

"That's not really hulking out."

"Physically, yes, he is hulking out, he's about three times as heavy as he was before. There's a weight limit to demon elevators you know." Eligos huffed with his hands on his practically nonexistent hip.

"Ugh, and what is 'edible' ?" Sam could practically see the air quotes in Dean's voice.

"A hamster." The demon admitted, "the trap gave me an idea. And the moment I was paying a visit to granny next door — demons do care, you know, and it amazing what she could do with those hands of hers — Lucifer swallowed my poor dear brother. I'm mourning his death. Not really. But the granny is fine, just so you-"

"Uh, demon? I do not need to know that." Dean covered up his ears.

"My dear God." Sam had to groan as Eligos babbled on, when did life became so morbid? Their luck had not been as bad as this before. They have not seen leviathans so far, and here along pops out a ridiculous rouge demon and a handicapped Lucifer going Hannibal; life was more than a bitch at them, she's more like on menopause squared.

"Say, do you call an angel in a vessel eating a man that have been possessed by a demon and turn into a hamster cannibalism? Down to the basics, both of them are humans." Eligos proposed an philosophical question that Sam really don't want to answer, in fact, he didn't even want to think about it. Dean face-palmed himself and sighed. Sam let his head roll back and stared at the ceiling, whishing that this mess was just a odd nightmare instead of reality. But really, how many nightmares is reality? Pretty much all of them are possible.

" 'Yankee Doodle Do' doesn't really rhyme in Enochian." Lucifer looked up fromwhere the painted trap had been now was a hole he had dug in the floorboards with a small spade in hand.

"My God." Dean breath out the words through his mouth.

Eligos shrugged at the brothers' withering glare. "Isn't this family reunion just cute?"

TBC


	6. Hunters, AKA Streaking FBI agents

Author's notes: Well, if you are reading this, I would just _love_ a review sometime you know [clears throat] to see your opinion on things I should change, or the general theme of this. Maybe bump the ugly 0 review up to a 1 or something.

Just saying. It's not mandatory.

Pretty pleaaase? *v*

Disclaimer: It's not mine, and won't be.

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"Great." Dean stared at Lucifer, who was composing his own song in Enochian, or Greek, or gibberish.

"What 'great'? Dean." Sam quickly glanced at his brother, eyes still not leaving the computer for a few seconds.

"Think about it, every year we worked with demons, Meg, Ruby, Crowley, and now this guy." Dean pointed his chin at the demon, slouching comfortably with a cold beer in his hand and smirking. "And nothing good ever comes out of it."

"I'm not working with you, or for you, I'm working alongside of you on different things." Eligos took a quick swig out of his can, and continued, "such as babysitting my great grand godfather. Wait, would you call it godfather or devilfather?"

The demon didn't seem particularly demonic, but then Ruby and Meg didn't seem demonic either. They were all wicked and arrogant, but Eligos's contagious emotions were a new one; when he was relaxed, everyone around him felt safer, probably because he was a demon and he wasn't going to get up soon if he slouch, but when he was nervous, or even annoyed, people around him get agitated. Dean would like to think it was witchcraft, because it was better than the other theory where it said that Eligos was born that way.

"I don't know." Dean smiled back at him, "and I don't care."

"Hmph." Eligos sat up from his infectious slouch and groaned in pain while pressing against his temples. Lucifer paused from his song and looked at him. Dean tensed up and Sam redirected his focus on to the demon.

Okay, this look at me thing was really getting old.

"What happened?" Sam asked with alarm.

"Brain freeze, never thought demons had them, thank you for worrying though." Eligos forced a tight smile, "the joys of being a demon."

Dean muttered under his breath a few curses, damn demon. And did he just give Dean the evil eye? He glared back in defiance.

Sam chuckled at that, Dean glowered at his brother too. Lucifer begin singing a really high note, and he puffed out his feathers to punctuate the sound. His brother frowned in confusion. Funny, how enemies became friends. Sam might just be having a bad memory, since Lucifer was hell bent on Armageddon for a while, and he did posses Dean's little brother. Although Dean missed the part of why aren't they killing Lucifer, but it was pretty good so far. He went back to close distance stalking the demon. Eligos was still huffing and messaging his temples. The brain freeze should have blown over in a few seconds; it's been one and a half minute now. But Dean wasn't a demon doctor and as far as he's concerned, demon's anatomy consists of smoke, smoke, and more charcoal smoke. it's good to see a demon suffer minor things like this though, they probably beyond deserved it.

"Brain freeze don't last this long." Sam helpfully supplied Eligos with that common information.

"His brain cells are freezing to death?" Dean offered hopefully.

The demon didn't answer with a snarky comeback, in fact, he only scrunched his brows together harder. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and his breath came short and irregular. Eligos started to curl into himself.

"Uh, Dean?" Sam was looking at him now. "I think something's wrong with him."

"A brilliant deduction, Sherlock." He shot back at his brother. Sam only gave him an exasperated look. He got up and went to check on Eligos, but not before he had the demon killing knife in hand, ready to filet a demon if it comes down to that. Angel mentioned or not, a demon was a demon, in fact, saving the poor human inside was prior to helping a brain freeze-ed demon or an ninja-ed out angel that snuck in houses at night.

Lucifer stopped singing sometime ago and watched them with wary eyes. Feather fluffing forgotten in favor of tilting his head like Castiel did to show confusion. Damn, the devil was pouting like his little brother. Dean pushed that thought back into a corner of his head to figure out later and poked the demon with the tip of his boot.

"Hey, demon." Eligos groaned weakly at his poke and stumbled off of his chair. Dean, despite that every cell in his body screamed not to catch that man, still did what his instinct told him to. He caught the demon but his hand suddenly felt burnt from a freezing cold. Dean let go of the demon and shook his hands in pain, they were red and devoid of feelings when he blew on them. He looked down at where the demon was dropped, there was a thin layer of frost on the carpet around Eligos's unconscious form in a strange, milky white halo.

"Okay, that is definitely not a brain freeze." Dean rubbed his hands together trying to get feelings and heat back to them. "Just what the hell is that?"

* * *

"The poor boy was frozen to death before he even got to the hospital." The pathologist shook her head and sighed. "How did those kids get frozen to death during July I have absolutely no idea."

"You mean, there's more?" Dean asked while taking a note.

"Yeah, three more." She turned around and pulled out another small female out of another unit. "Meet Jane Doe, agents."

The woman was petite, and her face was calm in death, like she already accepted her fate. There were frost on her fair, and slightly freckled face, and more ice was in her brown hair, the pathologist frowned.

"Our cooling system isn't set that low, why is there still frost forming?" She brushed off some ice from the corpse's hair and held it between her fingers. "Strange."

Dean caught a whiff of rotten eggs and coughed. "What is that? Sulfur?"

"Well, it's been there ever since we got the first of these corpses." She shrugged, "couldn't find out where it came from no matter where we checked."

"Can we see the first one?"

"Sure."

Another man was pulled out of the wall full of metal cabinets, this one was older than the rest. His hair was, to say the least, puffy. The wild mane dampened with heavy droplets of half-melted flakes of ice. The sulfur odor was present in this pallid corpse too. Another demon.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" She looked at them from behind her thick lens. Sam smiled and thanked her, but they didn't need anything else but a little privacy. The pathologist went back up stairs again and Sam looked at his brother.

"Looking strange to you?" Sam studied the corpse again. "Something's icing demons, quite literally."

"What kills demons like this?" Dean looked down at the body.

"Who knows, I've never seen anything like it either. Eligos just... froze to death. There's got to be a reason."

"Yep. I kinda liked the demon now he's gone, at least there was someone to take care of Lucifer." Dean agreed on a different subject.

"Seriously?" Sam couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.

"Seriously." Dean looked at him. "Despite the fact that he was a demon, his arrogance, that stupid perv smirk, witchcraft, and the tendency to show up and zap away at the least helpful moments, yeah, I liked him."

"Thank you for spilling your heart just when I'm dead, and that's about all of me you hate, you know." A muffled sound came from an adjacent cabinet and Dean jumped in surprise; it laughed in amusement. "I do have a name."

"Oh my God, you stupid demon." Dean sighed. "You're worse than those feathered asses upstairs."

"You yelped like a girl." Eligos commented smugly.

"No I didn't." Dean scowled.

"Yes you did." He started to sing in his cabinet, "Dean screamed like a little girl, Dean screamed-"

"No I didn't scream." Dean cut in the mocking song, but Eligos didn't stop singing. "Shut up you demon."

"Dean-"

"Hey you two, cut it out." Sam elbowed his brother, who grunted his opinion, and then he opened the cabinet Eligos was in. Eligos's eyes were milky white from death, and the host was young, maybe thirteen or so. He turned his head to reveal the shriveled of other side of his face, grinning in a permanent smile. "Hiya."

Dean made a sound that sounded like 'blach' and Sam gagged a little. "Can you chose something... less disgusting?"

"Eh." Eligos got out of the rectangular box and jumped down, naked as the day he was born. "not really feeling like it. Do I look like two-face though?"

"Definitely." Dean looked away automatically and passed him a white blanket he found beside the table. "At least wear something."

"Ah, about that, how do we like streaking?" The demon grinned — curving the remaining half of the lips that had flesh and muscles, really — and the hunters paled in horror.

"Oh, shit."

TBC

* * *

More Author's Notes: Ha, you couldn't have though I finished this chapter without my signature touch of grotesqueness?


	7. Dad, rabbit, and sister of demon

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Hmm. I see you, but you don't answer me... I ^ I

Thank you for those who followed me, or favorite me, again, because I am really grateful for them.

Anyways, Michael's here, wrapped into my craziness which had absolutely got out of hand from chapter 2. So I am going to follow the yellow bricked road and see where it's going to lead me. I really should change my first genre into horror shouldn't I? Eh. Later.

Warnings? Just my usual macabre sense of failed humor. I did have a good laugh writing streaking though.

* * *

Dean woke up from a unusually disturbing dream that involved them and a two faced young marathoner running around, blasting shotguns, _naked_. What was it called? Right, streaking. He exhaled shakily from fright, good thing that it was just a dream. The water in the bathroom was running and exasperated mutterings can be heard, so Sam was already up before him.

Lucifer, unfortunately, was not just part of the dream.

He peeked his head out from the bathroom, brown mane shaggy with water dripping from them. Dean groan in resignation, so Eligos was real after all. The unbelievably irritating demon was still out there somewhere. The thought unnerved him more than Lucifer and Sam bathing. He shuddered in horror and rose, check the salt lines, the painted trap on the ceiling, because the floor was a splintering mess from where a feather assed Lucifer had dug. Everything was clear. He went back to bed instead to trying to get under his brother's skin.

Sam then came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed with Dean, putting his face in his hand, he asked Dean with a muffled voice.

"Got beer?"

"Nope." Dean snorted, "we drank the last two before going to investigate."

"Ugh."

"How's your little bro-mance with Lucifer going?"

"Shut up, Dean." Sam groaned in his hand.

"Birdies out in the window." Lucifer sang with much enthusiasm.

"Shut up, Lucifer."

"Meanie." The angel pouted and shrank back into the tiny bathroom. "Not talking to you."

"Satan's giving me the silent treatment, I don't know if I should be honored or horrified." Dean scoffed good-naturedly as Sam continued to face-palm himself. "I would love to see the expression the manager will give when he sees the floor."

"My head is pounding like hell, Dean, please stop talking." Sam added, speaking his mind. "You sound like Eligos."

"What? I'm way better than him." He argued.

"Birrrrrdieeeeeee" Lucifer poked his head out again. "Iiiiiiin cooooominnnng... "

"What do you want? And just what the hell is 'incoming?'"

"In. Coming." Lucifer corrected him.

Just when he was going to ask again what that meant, the sentence explained itself. An angel quite literally exploded into the window, Dean had to cover his face to avoid the spray of glass. The angel was taking someone with him, and the two wrestled on the ground. The person screeched in fury, and he stopped in his tracks. It was a demon, a female one. Definitely not Eligos then. Some hag who had the guts to stalk them.

"Meg?" Sam had already sat up, and now he was rushing to pry the two apart. Damn, he was good at recognizing demons, Dean had to give his brother that credit. He held the snarling angel back, and Sam half helped, half threatened Meg with a knife. His brother was going to say something, but then he stared, jaw slacking at the berserk angel.

"Brooooo." Lucifer squealed delightfully from his safe corner. " Miiiiiikeeeeeeee."

Dean's heart dropped with ten thousands miles and hour speed. The angel and the demon's head snapped toward Lucifer.

"Lucifer?" Michael asked, with mild disbelieve and excitement in his voice.

"Father?" Meg gawked at the crouching figure. "How?"

"You didn't know?" Sam asked Meg. "I thought you guys already knew that."

"How did we didn't know?" She continued her ramble instead, "why did you not summon us, Father? We would not disappoint you this time..."

Dean's brother mouthed 'Eligos' at him, and the sentence they exchanged a few nights before came back to him. Maybe Eligos somehow covered up this with witchery, as much as he hated to admit it, Ruby had charms that could prevent Lilith from finding them, so Eligos hiding Lucifer might not be so different. The Lucifer loyalists had nothing to gather on without their worshipped 'father', but if they found out... Dean understood Eligos's logic now, but wouldn't it be quicker and less troublesome finishing the angel off?

Michael wiggled his way out of Dean's grip and ran toward his little brother. Lucifer lunged at him and Dean thought there might be another fight, but Lucifer only clung to Michael and refused to let go. Meg growled in anger, he tore his eyes away from the odd reunion and spun around to find Eligos standing behind him.

"You." She hissed menacingly.

"Yeah, me. Nameless demon." Eligos sniffed. "Gotta cover this too."

"You hid our father away from us!"

"Not really, I just fancied myself with a angel pet."

"Is this?" Sam pointed his chin at the two ex-archangels, "your work?"

"What? No. Definitely not, why would I risk my ass suddenly in Hell and drag them out of the Cage? They had their turn already, and they screwed it." Eligos strolled toward Meg, "you see, I didn't take a side in politics like that, and a neutral demons aren't real popular downstairs."

"You?" Dean raised his brows in question.

"Mm-hmm."

"You would suffer for-" Meg snarled at him. He stepped sideways to avoid the spittle that she was projecting into the air and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Hmph." Eligos sauntered toward Michael. "Get on the waiting list, it's only a few miles long right now."

The angel looked wild when he saw Eligos approaching, he pushed a stubborn Lucifer away and whipped out his archangel's blade. Eligos jumped back at the sight of the slivery sword and Michael charged at him. The sword clattered onto the ground instead, and Dean looked up from the knife. Michael was no longer there, Lucifer looked innocent, if not a little bewildered at the Houdini escaping trick his brother used.

Or not.

Eligos held something flurry in his hands as he turned towards them. It was a rabbit, a light brown coated rabbit with light blue eyes. The demon smiled down at the little creature. Meg cursed profoundly. The hunters gaped at the sudden appearance of the animal where Michael should be.

"Tell me bugs bunny there isn't Michael." Dean pointed at the shivering little thing.

"I missed a lot of the eighties, especially dope." He the helpfully added, "have any?"

TBC

* * *

AN: Why I turned Michael into a rabbit? Three reasons. One, if I just said 'angel' you could be confused, and there are too many people in this. Two, I didn't feel like writing three insane and two sane, that is just out of proportion. Three, you gotta get them a pet, and now Michael's a rabbit, isn't that cute?


	8. Lucifer on the road, day 1

Disclaimer: Not mine.

After the short visit of Michael as a human, here is Michael as a rabbit. His adventures with his little brother, two (temporarily) sane humans, a crazy beyond bat-shit crazy demon who is also the wicked witch. Not in his pov though.

Enjoy.

* * *

The day later on involved brainwashing an angry demon and shooing the other one away. Dressing the angel in burrowed clothes, which were mostly Dean's, and he was not happy about it. Trying to get as far from the hotel as fast as they could in the Impala, then feeding a goddamned, ex-archangel-ex-mortal rabbit rabbit food they bought from a pet store. Michael refused to eat after sniffing at it, but Lucifer shoved the food down Michael's mouth.

They were speeding down a highway, Lucifer in the backseat— having been forcibly shoved there after he refused to get in a car— the angel was brawling his eyes and lungs out while holding his big brother in a cage.

Dean turned the volume of the radio to the max trying to drown out the ear-splitting semi-angel vocal howls back there. But only accomplished to make more noise. the cacophony of sounds were killing Sam's head, which have been pounding with a lack of caffeine since the morning. He was trying to call Bobby and see if he have any way to solve this absolute nightmare before they go insane from the sheer ridiculousness of the events. But he doesn't think he'll stay conscious in this kind of conditions any longer than a minute now.

Someone in their Prius pulled up beside them and looked at their car with wide eyed disbelief. Sam mouthed 'you have no idea' at them when Lucifer reached a high note of his screaming made Dean swerve slightly. The person shook her head and sped up.

"God, I'm going deaf." Dean yelled above the racket at Sam. He rolled his eyes and turned the radio off, the noise was only a tad more quiet now.

"Better?" Sam asked.

Dean glared at him, "what was that for?"

Sam banged his head lightly against the glass of the Impala and sighed, and the phone was finally picked up after countless rings.

"What?" Bobby sounded more than irritated through the phone, "I'm busy."

"Yeah, sorry, but-" Sam had to groan in pain when Lucifer screeched with the angel voice thing. "We have a problem here."

"What the hell was that?" Now their uncle sounded bewildered. "Was that an angel?"

"It's Lucifer, Bobby." Dean shouted from his driving. "It's a very long story."

"Wh-" Bobby went silent, then he muttered, "I don't even want to know how you did that. Is Armageddon started again?"

Dean snorted in amusement, "I would love to see that happen with this retarded Lucifer."

The angel's voice slowly faded, Sam glanced back at Lucifer to find the angel nodding off. Barely keeping his eyes open and head lolled randomly, Lucifer let out a few more defiant wails and faded away all together to prove the point. The rabbit still in his stubborn grip while the exhausted Lucifer softly snored in his sleep. The car instantly became quiet and Sam sighed in relief.

"What the hell..."

"Oh, yeah, Michael's here too." Sam added.

"What?" Bobby sounded panicked, "so how is this apocalypse _not_ starting? Is he 'retarded' too?"

"No, but-"

"But what?"

"He's... uh... turned into a rabbit."

There was silence on Bobby's side of the phone, he resisted to urge to ask if Bobby was still there.

"He... that story of yours?"

"Yeah?"

"It better be a damn good one."

* * *

They reached a lonely looking motel in the middle of nowhere three hours later. They were half way between their last town and Bobby's house, Lucifer was more than happy to get out of the car. Holding his now rabbit brother close to his chest, he hopped the rest of the way between the car and the main office. The evening was cool, and the faint pink smudge at the edge of the horizon signaled the coming of night. It's in the middle of June, but the day would be dark very soon.

"My legs feel funny." Morningstar giggled and hopped. The poor rabbit in his cage bounced with his little brother, Sam pitied Michael about now, but he had no heart to hear Lucifer screech again, so Michael would just have to suffer until a _not _stoned Eligos decided to turn him back. It was... disgustingly intriguing, learning something new about a demon just when you thought you knew them as more than the knew themselves. Or maybe Eligos was just different from other demons.

Sam gave Dean an exasperated look and brightened up automatically when he saw a young man at the counter. The young man only grunted in response. He put one hand under his own chin in boredom and asked skeptically. "One king sized bed?"

"_No_," Dean smiled too, but it was dark and dangerous, "Three twin beds, actually."

The young man flinched at Dean's every word and quickly jotted them down. Sam glowered at his brother for scaring the boy, he had to be what? Eighteen? It wasn't like the boy knew better, even if they did have a bad day. Lucifer jumped up to the counter with that god-awful bright smile of his and a most likely suffering from vertigo Michael in hand. He sat Michael down on the counter and grinned wider at the man. "Hellloo." The boy swallowed and gave them an extra bed to push into the small room. Lucifer delightfully followed the two hunter with the foul mood and occasionally talking to the rabbit.

Michael just sat on his hunches and refused to stand up, or hop around in the cage. Definitely vertigo, and car-sickness. There was a uncomfortable feeling to his back, a spine tingling feeling like someone was watching.

When Sam looked back Michael was, apparently, staring at him with the biggest, bluest eyes Sam ever seen, trying to get his attention.

Sam stared back.

Then he snatched the cage away from a ranting Lucifer, who whined and pouted but did not start screaming again. Dean was already ahead to the motel room, Sam gently scooped the poor rabbit out and carried the small, furry thing in his cupped hands. He gave the empty cage back to a sulking Lucifer, who stared at it like Michael would suddenly appear in the cage any moment. He walked the rest of the way with Lucifer trailing behind, glumly holding the cage and shuffling his feet, which had Dean's sneakers on them.

He set the rabbit down on the table and let him explore, Dean was already opening a can of beer from the most recent gas station shopping while watching Lucifer from the corner of his eyes. Sam just heaved himself on his bed and exhaled. Lucifer went back to bothering his big brother with poking and prodding at Michael's short, fluffed up tail. Michael jumped away from Lucifer only to get dragged back by his ears. The ex-archangel rabbit then tried to stomp on his brother's hand to no success— he was a tiny rabbit after all.

Somehow the rabbit look really frustrated. Sam never thought he knew what a frustrated rabbit looked like, but Michael the rabbit looked frustrated.

TBC

* * *

I'll write a third person narrative focused on Michael as an extra chapter. Later, maybe next Easter(just kidding, it's coming soon, whenever I'm inspired).


	9. Teleporting Under Influence, ticketed

Disclaimer: Not mine.

I'm going to do something with Lucifer 'hulking out' on demon blood. Also, the wings only lasts like fifteen minutes or so, Michael can't do it.

Eligos is speciaaaal, how? You'll just have to wait and see.

* * *

The hunters looked upset. Maybe they didn't like the fact he yelled 'Geronimo', it made more sense than jumping up because he said 'I kissed Growley and I am going to marry him'. The words felt funny in his mouth, apparently this Ukrainian kid didn't speak English and he was forcing them out by pure will. He liked Russian sauerkraut before he was comatose, and who isn't comatose after they loved sauerkraut? Damn, he liked Ian better than any, He'll have find another replacement for the kid.

"You kissed _who_?" Dean was yelling too.

A rabbit tackled him by surprise, he was already tackling the hellhound, big daddy went after the rabbit. Sam was trying to fend off Growley, and he latched on to the dog tighter as it lunged in the air, aiming for Dean. The hunters shot the angry hellhound with bullets, trying to slow it down.

Growley sharply jerked in midflight from the force of the bullets, it caught him by surprise and knocked the air out of him with a 'oof'. Eligos let go, and Growley burst out the door for it's master, who was, funnily, named Crowley. He giggled.

"Doggy... don't go." Eligos reached in the air for Growley, who was long gone.

"You kissed a hellhound?" Sam looked ridiculous, well, more than he used to anyways. "Any not just any hellhound. Crowley's _hellhound_?"

"So?" He snorted. Something clattered beside him, his arm instinctively snatched the thing up. It might be edible, or a possible ally. "Your point being what?"

"Well, how about, 'not kissing a hellhound next time'?" Sam then added, "or 'marry' it."

"I do that all the time." Eligos rolled over on his stomach and placed a fluffy creature on it. It was cute, and angry. How could something be cute and angry at the same time? Maybe it have something to do with because it's angry so it's cute... no, that's not it, what was it... ? He absently petted the rabbit and played with its silky ears, pink with soft, white glaze of thin fur. Dad was laying beside him, staring curiously at him and poking at all the spikes. Invisible spikes, anyways.

"Eli, can you turn Michael back to human, or angel, or whatever?" Sam shook him and slapped his face, how rude. Eligos decided to ignore him until he go away, "hey, you with- ugh! Are you drunk?"

"Funny, dad said that too." Eligos mumbled before he passed out with Michael trying to chew on his fingers. "Also, you're tune deaf."

* * *

This was it.

Dean didn't know to be disturbed or dying of laughter. The demon was wearing a shirt that said 'I heart mom' and snoring loudly in the devil's trap they recently painted. The crazy demon seemed to have a liking for young man, and this one had a roman general's nose. He looked around twenty or so, with brown and blond highlighted hair in a small ponytail behind his head. The rabbit Michael was trying to chew him awake and Lucifer knotted the boy's hair into a nightmarish mess piled on the back of his neck. Dean went with dying of laughter and watched Sam trying to slap the demon awake.

Kissing Growley and marrying the said friggin' hellhound was something he just have to see, even though he hated hellhounds. Eligos was a mess, physically and mentally; Dean wondered hell did that. People react differently to trauma, and Eligos might just be the one that went with breakdown.

He had to convince the hotel owner that nothing happened, which was a little difficult with the broken door. He managed it with a little help from Lucifer. The angel grinned his eerie grin and beamed it at the young manager in full force. He swear that he saw a mark on the crouch of the pair of pants he was wearing, and the dark stain was getting bigger with every moment. Dean wasn't sure, the man ran too fast.

"Hey, Eligos, you awake?" Sam asked when the demon yawned.

"Stupid question, if I'm not awake, why would I be answering you?" Eligos shook his head violently, as if it would clear up his vision and tangled thoughts. "Whoo. good stuff, knocked me back to hell and back, literally."

"Demons get drunk? Like they get stoned, brain-freezed, and married to hellhounds?" Dean asked.

"Uh-huh. We do that- Wait, what?" Dean's laughter renewed itself as the demon realized his mistake.

"Dean." Sam gave him a bitchface, but he could keep it for long before a smile crept up his face, "seriously?"

"I'm never letting you live that one down." Dean pointed shakily at Eligos, laughing and coughing between breaths. "Damn, that was funny."

Eligos sighed when he looked up at the trap. He looked back down at Dean and Sam, exasperated, "you want something?"

"Start with turning Michael there back."

Eligos glance down at the finger gnawing rabbit warrior. Dean cracked up again, he didn't know where he got the last word of that thought but it was funnier than hell. He thought he was going faint from the lack of oxygen. Sam looked at him uncomfortably, and went back to staring at the demon.

Eligos only had a staring competition with the rabbit and did nothing more, his hair now completely looking like he just went through a tornado. Lucifer look proud at his handiwork and occasionally fluffed up here and there.

"Eligos?" Sam asked.

"Hmm? Oh, right, turn angel back to rabbit."

"No, turn rabbit back to angel."

"But you said turn it back into a rabbit."

"I said turn it back to an angel."

"You have a rabbit now."

"Exact-" Sam rolled his eyes, "no, I want an angel, we now have a rabbit that was an angel."

"So you want me to make an angel and turn it into a rabbit?"

"I want you to turn _this _rabbit into an angel."

"So it wasn't an angel before."

"It was."

"And you want to turn it back."

"Yes! That's what I've trying to tell you for the last minute and a half." Sam groaned.

"You could have just told me you wanted to turn an angel turned rabbit into an angel again. Why did you turn it into a rabbit in the first place?"

"I didn't, you did, remember?"

"I don't turn rabbits into angel."

"You can't?"

"I didn't."

Sam slapped himself and took a deep breath. "You turned an _angel_ into a _rabbit_."

"So I didn't turn rabbit into angel."

"You are going to."

"Well, how am I supposed to work with nothing?"

"There is a fucking rabbit in your lap!"

Eligos looked down again. "Oh. This was an angel?"

Apparently that insulted the ex-archangel and he chewed on Eligos's thumb again.

"You... that was Michael."

"Eeeh." Eligos flinched. "Rabbit."

"Would you just _please_ turn him back to Michael the _archangel_ again?"

"Fine, _rabbit_. I'll turn you into a rabbit."

"No! Goddamn it!"

TBC

* * *

More Author's Notes: Eligos wasn't sober. Enough said.


	10. Another extra, Michael POV

Disclaimer: Not mine

It might turn into a spinoff of my main story Hell Raised. For now, it's just an extra chapter. Few things. Michael is emotional, very, very emotional. Creative in cursing too. And also, FYI, rabbits can't throw up.

_Italics are Michael's thoughts in first person_

* * *

Michael was excited to see his brother.

Yes, he was a whole crap load of other emotions too, but he was excited. What came in second was horror, especially when Lucifer prodded him with his fingers in curiosity. At his tail, his _effing_ tail. Okay, from the look Sam gave him whenever he thought Dean wasn't looking he concluded he was cute, sure, But seriously? Tail? _Does Lucifer even know a thing called privacy?_

He swear he's going to kill that demon good and slow when he turned back into the archangel he was.

_What?_

Sam scattered something in his _cage_, they kept an archangel in a cage! That is just pure insult, and what's the newspaper on the ground for? he sniffed at the pellets that looked unappetizing, what did the monkeys wanted him to do with it? He winced at the disgusting smell and looked at his brother's supposed vessel. Sam was looking at him expectantly, like he was supposed to... to...

_Aw, Lady Liberty's unshaved armpit_, he was supposed to be filling his stomach with this crap.

He turned away from the foul smelling ration, if he goes on voluntary fasting, they might actually feed him monkey food. He still can't believe when he woke up in Antarctica, a feeling of strange craving overcame him. It was probably the first time he felt hunger in his life, or the need to do anything at all. The monkey food, turns out, to be alright. It probably needed to taste alright when your whole life would be spent munching on it. His brother glanced hopefully at him with moist eyes.

_What? No. Absolutely not._ He is not eating that stuff.

Dean snorted his amusement, but he only drank his drink and watched. Sick humans. Michael felt the need to stand up for the rabbits whenever he was turned back to something that actually had opposable thumbs and a voice, or an archangel Grace. That would be _really_ nice for, you know, every single thing. Someone pulled on his ears, and he was lifted by them out of the cage. He landed on a shifting platform, wait, that's Lucifer's hand. Michael's head was lifted up, and a gigantic finger lifted his split, fur covered lips.

_Wait, whatareyoudoingnonononoLuciferyoucan't-_

Lucifer violently shoved a pellet into his mouth. He swallowed without chewing, that's just to morbid to think of. His brother grinned evilly, and his spine tingled with fear (but he is _not _shivering, no, he's _not_).

_Oh, no._

* * *

He passed out the moment his brother started his crying. Rabbit ears aren't made to listen to sounds that loud, but he awakened right before dawn, he felt sick, and his stomach was upset. Michael was already used to the unsafe ways of travelling that the monkeys had employed, but did his brother had to jump? He wished that here was some bars he could hold on to with his dear, bunny life.

_Oh, wait, opposable thumbs are not available right now. Ha ha, very funny._

The world around him spun and spun, harder and harder. He was going to faint again, but he didn't, so he was stuck in a semi-conscious state of mind in a blurry world. He bounced against the bars of the cage, some newspaper got stuck on his nose, and all he could smell was a musky ink. Michael wished that he could shout at his childish brother to stop, no, slap him, wait, no, just strangle him half to death instead; he didn't hate his brother that much to strangle the other half of him to death.

He finally found a pace to the random jerks of the cage, and he found himself staring at a back clad with faded brown. Sam, dammit, he's been there all along? He felt horrible, like the solar system had collapsed onto him.

_Think, Michael, think, there have to be a way to escape to the nightmare situation you're in._ The monkey spared him a sympathetic glance, but he didn't act on the compassionate emotion.

_Hmm..._ An idea formed in his head.

He'll just have to encourage the man into action then. Michael realized that they had all the goodness in their heart, but all they needed was the push to act on them. And what would be a certain catalyst? Parental instinct.

Don't get it? It's triggered by, ahem, cuteness. Which he definitely have right now. Petite anatomy? Check. Big baby blue eyes? Check. Fluffiness? Definitely, he curled into himself a little more to make himself look more adorable.

_Alright, plan 'I'll take your heart by surprise so you would pick me up gently and pet me' is in action._

He stared intently at the back side of the big monkey, it's instinct that they would feel it and turn around. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me. I'm cute, pet me...

_Waiting... waiting... and... there!_

Sam looked back at him and brown eyes met blue, he stared back and continued recited the mantra in his head. The thick headed hunter fell for the trick and snatched the cage away from his unintentionally sadistic younger brother. He reached a behemoth of a hand out to grab Michael and he put into the other hand of the mortal.

_This, is brilliant. Wait, why are you petting?_ Michael melted into the touch. _No, no, no. This isn't happening. Don't pet like that! Stoooop- __Change that, don't._

Michael sighed contently, after this hard day and suffering, he deserved to give himself a treat.

Sam placed him on the table just when he was about to doze off, naturally. His paws were cold, and he couldn't help but shiver. Lucifer went back to staring at him with a glint of a look that was often found in hungry predators. His brother poked him again, and he hopped away on his long hind legs, only to have Lucifer pull him back and continue with the jabs. He went on the offensive and stomped on his brother's hand, apparently, he wasn't as heavy as he thought he was.

_Daddammit._ He cursed angrily.

* * *

More Author's Notes: Now we know why Michael the rabbit looked frustrated. Reviews and faves please! I would return it with hugs and kisses, over the computer.


	11. Notes again

Notes.

Taking down the last three chapters for renovation. Don't worry, I'll post it again.


End file.
